


Assholes In Love

by serenelystrange



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Complete, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 23:10:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2891585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These two assholes can’t figure out what to get each other for Christmas. Their friends are absolutely no help. But it all works out. ------- Written for the Sterek Secret Santa 2014 on tumblr, for hopelesslynowasterekshipper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assholes In Love

“What do you get a werewolf who hates everything?”

Scott’s responding eye roll is obvious, even through the shaky Skype feed.

“Derek doesn’t hate everything, Stiles,” he says, the sound coming out somewhat crackled in the middle. Stiles curses the shitty wifi in his dorm for the millionth time.

“Those eyebrows beg to differ,” Stiles says, scrolling aimlessly through the Google search results for “Christmas gifts for young hot guys with ‘get off my lawn’ tendencies” in another window. The wifi does not approve.

 

Scott scoffs. “You love his eyebrows.”

“Shut your whore mouth,” Stiles replies automatically, clicking on the suggested link for outdoor lounge chairs with consideration. “He’s still an asshole.”

“So are you,” Scott says, matter of factly.

“Which is why we work so well,” Stiles replies, frowning as he realizes the outdoor lounge chairs are just ugly beach chairs in darker colors.

“Just get him some new t-shirts!” Allison’s voice comes from somewhere behind Scott, “He’s always tearing or getting oil and grease all over his.”

“That’s not a Christmas gift,” Stiles and Scott say at the same time, taking a moment to grin on delight at each other in  _almost_  perfect sync. Stupid wifi.

“Plus,” Stiles adds, “I definitely prefer oil and grease over the blood and guts of the first few years. And this way, he takes his shirt off all the time. Everyone wins.”

“Except me,” Scott sighs, before looking up off-screen and grinning.

Allison appears in front of the camera, settling in Scott’s lap and lowering the computer chair so they both can be seen.

“Stiles,” she says, doe eyes set to the maximum earnest effect, “You’ve been together almost four years now, he’s going to love anything you give him.”

“You two are useless,” Stiles sighs, “he’s going to end up with another stupid mug.”

“He uses that three wolf moon mug all the time!” Scott defends. “Erica, Isaac, and Boyd thought it was hilarious!”

“It was a very nice gift, dear,” Allison placates, patting Scott’s head gently.

Scott just grins up at her with the same stars in his eyes that Stiles has been dealing with since they were sixteen.

“Ok, I need to get to class,” Stiles says, minimizing the search window for later. “I’ll see you sickening lovebirds in a few weeks.”

“Like you and Derek aren’t just as bad!” Scott says, but Stiles is already disconnecting the call and trying to find his books, shoes, and cell phone all at the same time.

.

.

“Just give him like… a really good blowjob.”

“Jesus Christ, Cora!” Derek says, “I do not need to hear my baby sister talking about blowjobs!”

Cora just raises an eyebrow. “I literally walked in on you and Stiles when you had his dick in your esophagus.”

“That’s not how… how long do you think…” Derek starts, looking slightly concerned, “maybe we  _do_  need to talk about blowjobs.”

“Not my area,” she says, shrugging. “Now, you wanna compare notes on the fine art of cunnilingus? We can talk.”

“ _No,_  Cora,” Derek says, “can we please just change the subject to anything but sex?”

“Prude,” Cora scoffs. “But really, he would love that gift. He tells everyone who will listen about your “mad skillz.” And then he goes on to the people who won’t listen.”

She smirks as Derek’s face flushes in what she’s come to know is his ‘embarrassed, but fond of Stiles’ expression.

Derek decides to just pretend Cora hasn’t said anything at all, and continues talking.

“This was easier when he a freshman and I could just throw money at him for his dorm,” he sighs.

“And now he’ll be graduating in six months,” Cora says, taking pity on him and trying to be helpful, “maybe you could get him a new car? That Jeep is never going to make the drive back here from Portland.”

“I’ve tried,” Derek says, rubbing a hand over his heavy eyes, “he refuses to let me.”

“Boys and their stupid pride,” Cora snorts, shaking her head.

“Humans,” Derek agrees, nodding.

“They just don’t understand pack,” Cora finishes, smiling faintly.

“Maybe if I just replaced the Jeep with an identical, but not falling apart, model…” Derek muses.

“Good luck with that,” Cora says, slinging a messenger bag across her chest. “I’m going to meet Kira. Don’t wait up.”

Derek nods absently. “Try not to kill anyone.”

“No promises,” Cora grins, “But I’ll try. And really, oral sex is always the answer. Bye!”

Derek is still thumping his head on his kitchen counter when Cora slams the door shut as she breezes out.

.

.

 _I miss you,_  Stiles types into the email, clicking send before he can spiral into a whole meltdown about how much he misses his family and how he’s not sure he can handle the last six months of his education so far from them all. Lydia is off doing god knows what in Europe, but he knows she’ll see the email eventually. She’ll be somewhere in France for Christmas, heading a conference on the importance of young girls in the Sciences, just daring any old white dude in a cheap suit to call her honey. God, he misses her. She would have the perfect gift idea for Derek, and wouldn’t even break a sweat.

.

“Just make him come home, already,” Erica says, when Derek asks for her help with Stiles’ present.

“He needs to finish his degree,” Derek replies. “Though I did consider tying him up and just not letting him go back,” he admits.

“Aw, there’s the crazy Alpha that I know and love,” Erica coos, petting Derek’s hair. It’s longer now, a touch away from too shaggy, and she takes the opportunity to make some quick braids while Derek’s busy brooding on the couch.

“Crazy in love!” Isaac shouts from the kitchen where he’s making dinner, before cackling at his own joke.

“Derek is not Beyonce,” Boyd says, coming down the stairs, baby Hannah on his hip.

“I don’t know,” Erica says, “he does have a booty that won’t quit.”

“He’s also  _right here_ ,” Derek sighs, looking over a Boyd with hopeful eyes.

Boyd just laughs. “She was asking for “dek dek” before I even got her out of the crib,” he says, before handing the squiggling one year old to Derek.

“You know,” Isaac says, coming in and settling on a stuffed chair across from them, “most men would take offense to their wife objectifying another man right in front of him. And their child.”

“I’m secure in my masculinity,” Boyd says, unfazed, “and my marriage.”

Derek tunes them out in favor of settling Hannah on his knees and dipping her backwards slowly, blowing raspberries on her belly and watching her dissolve into giggles before pulling her back up and doing it all over again.

“Give me my child,” Erica butts in after a few minutes, “I need to cuddle her.”

Derek honest-to-God pouts, but he hands her over, getting in one last nuzzle of sweet baby scent.

“You’re such a softie now,” Isaac mocks. “And you have like… a whole bunch of braids in your hair.”

Derek just glares at him for a moment before shrugging and leaning back against the couch as Boyd and Erica head to the kitchen with the baby. So what if he’s more relaxed these days, they all deserve it after those first few awful years.

“You love Hannah,” he points out to Isaac, who just rolls his eyes.

“Obviously,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t take every opportunity to poke fun at you.”

“Why did I invite any of you to live here?” Derek grouses.

“Because we’re awesome,” Isaac says. “And that loft was no place for a baby. Plus, you know Stiles loves this place. You have a library for god’s sake.”

“Ugh,” Derek says, dropping his head into his hands. “I still don’t know what to get him.”

“Blowjobs,” Isaac says, completely seriously.

“Stop talking to my sister!” Derek says, growling half-heartedly.

“She started it!” Isaac defends.

“Go away,” Derek says, making shooing motions towards the stairs, “I need to think.”

.

.

“A man could always use some good socks,” the Sheriff says into the phone, half-listening to Stiles’ rant as Melissa chops vegetables to add to the stir fry he’s making.

“I’m not getting him socks!” Stiles says, as if the idea personally offends his very being.

“Flea collar?” the Sheriff teases, laughing when the call disconnect, as he predicted it would.

“Mean,” Melissa says, swatting his arm.

“He knows I’m only teasing,” he responds, “and I know you’ve made that same joke to Scott more than once.”

“Yeah, well,” Melissa says, hip-checking him before settling into his side and wrapping an arm around his waist, “I’m special.”

“You are,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple, before getting back to the wok at hand. He’s not looking, but he can feel her smile against his shoulder.

.

.

Stiles’ flight gets in on the 20th of December, landing just shy of Midnight. It’s not a long flight, but it was the cheapest option, and Stiles had refused to let Derek buy him a better ticket.

He grabs his carry-on bag and makes his way to the pick-up area at what feels like the slowest speed possible, thanks to the crowds and the fact that his seat was at the back of the plane. But then he’s finally outside, the air considerably dryer than Portland’s, but with a sharper chill. He’s searching for his dad’s patrol car, but stops short when he sees Derek instead, leaning against his SUV with the same casual sexiness that he’d done with the Camaro. Stiles takes a moment to be impressed at that, before breaking into a grin and a run, knowing full well that Derek will catch him when he barrels in.

He’s not wrong. Derek manages to catch his suitcase with one hand while the other arm goes around Stiles, pulling him in tight against his chest. He settles the suitcase on the ground so he can wrap both arms around him and squeeze just a little too tight. Not that Stiles minds.

Derek mumbles against his skin, from where he’s dipped against his neck, breathing him in.

“Missed you, too,” Stiles says, running his fingers through Derek’s hair the way he’s been longing to since he started growing it out.

“Longer than mine, now,” he says, massaging Derek’s scalp soothingly.

“Mm-hm,” Derek hums, agreeably.

“I could literally be talking about paint drying right now and you wouldn’t care, huh?” Stiles teases, tilting his head to the side slightly so Derek can worry the skin there with his teeth.

“Missed your voice in person,” Derek says, pulling himself away from Stiles’ neck with difficulty.

“I missed your everything,” Stiles says, moving to kiss Derek soundly, pushing him against the car a little harder than is strictly necessary.

Derek goes willingly.

They kiss languidly for a few long minutes, until a taxi starts honking angrily at them, not even deterred by the red flash of eyes that Derek sends the driver.

“Come on,” Stiles says, retrieving his suitcase from the ground before swatting Derek’s ass from where he’s turned, still glaring at the cabbie. “Take me home.”

Derek grins. That, he can do.

.

They spend the night with takeout and movies, hidden away in Derek’s room, after brief hellos to everyone else in the house. They can make nice tomorrow, the first night is always just for them. Stiles teases Derek for the downright tender way he makes love to him, but whispers his own love declarations all the same.

It’s the first night in months that he doesn’t wake up once.

.

.

Stiles wakes up to baby Hannah on his chest, staring at him with her big brown eyes, drooling all over his bare skin.  Erica is lying beside him, wedged between them and the still-sleeping Derek.

“We got tired of waiting,” she says, unapologetically.

Stiles wrinkles his nose. “Are you sure you want to be laying there? We had so much sex last night.”

Erica shrugs. “Whatever. We missed you.”

Hannah takes the opportunity to smack Stiles in the face with her baby fist, before leaning forward to try and chew at his face.

“She’s teething,” Erica explains as Stiles winces from the sharp little baby teeth.

Stiles just nods and then chews gently on Hannah’s cheek, finishing with a loud smack of a kiss that has her giggling.

“I missed you guys, too,” Stiles says, sounding tired despite the great nights’ sleep.

“Only six more months,” Erica says, smiling brightly at him. Her lipstick is immaculate as always, which never fails to impress Stiles. He knows if he was a mother, he would be proud of himself for just remembering to shower.

“Six more months,” he agrees, “it feels like forever. I just want to be back here, teaching punk-ass kids by day, and occasionally kicking ass by night.”

“Like Batman,” Erica smirks, “if Batman was a middle school teacher.”

“Batman should never be in charge of pre-teens,” Stiles says, shuddering.

“You’ve been home less than a day, and you’re already talking about Batman,” Derek grumbles as he wakes up. “Go away, Erica.”

“But I brought Hannah!” Erica says, scooping the baby from Stiles’ chest and depositing her in Derek’s arms as he turns on his side.

“Mornin’, babygirl,” Derek says, slightly less grumbly.

“Dek dek!” Hannah babbles, chewing absently on Derek’s bicep.

He presses a kiss to her forehead before raising an eyebrow at Erica pointedly.

“Oh, fine,” she says, rolling her eyes and taking Hannah back. “But if you two aren’t up in an hour, I’m sending Isaac in to aggressively cuddle you!”

Stiles just snorts, and Derek ignores her.

She clicks the door shut behind her and Derek immediately moves to wrap himself around Stiles.

“World’s hairiest octopus,” Stiles says, huffing as the air is puffed out of him by Derek’s motion.

“You love it,” Derek says simply, tracing idle patterns across Stiles’ chest with his fingertips.

“I love you,” Stiles replies, just as simply.

Isaac bursts in an hour later, as threatened, and immediately runs back out, yelling at Erica about ballsacks that he never wanted to see.

Stiles resulting laugher can probably be heard from Mars.

.

.

Christmas Eve is held at Derek’s house, as it’s the biggest by far. Stiles and Melissa do most of the cooking, and Scott and Allison bring a variety of desserts. Isaac does his part by staying out of the way and being generally tall and able to hang up decorations without much difficulty. Erica and Hannah hold court from the big comfy chair, making suggestions for various aspects of the celebration and telling Isaac when something he’s hung up is crooked.

Boyd and Cora are in a tense battle of Words With Friends, sitting cross-legged across from each other on the floor in front of Erica, phones in their hands at the ready. Kira, still relatively new to their group outside of Cora, stays as close to Cora and Derek as she can without being too weird. Derek eventually enlists her help in pulling the gifts from the hall closet and setting them up around the tree, just to give her something to soothe her nerves.

Dinner is easy in a way that Derek still has a hard time believing he deserves sometimes. Stiles holds his hand under the table as he snarks across the table at Cora about some new movie. Kira leans in and whispers to him in Japanese when they want to mock them. Stiles maybe digs his fingernails into Derek’s hand for that. It’s worth it.

Scott catches Stiles up on pack business since he’s last been in town, even though it’s been pleasantly calm and quiet for nearly a year now. Allison talks about the latest postcard she’d gotten from her father in France, and the conferences he’s attending.

“Wait,” Stiles says suddenly, “Isn’t that the same conference Lydia is going to be at?”

There’s a long moment of stunned silence as everyone else pieces it together.

Finally, Kira speaks. “Is Lydia dating Allison’s dad?”

Allison lets out a panicked sounding giggle. “Not that I know of!”

“Her last email did say something about a dashing older man,” Stiles says slowly, unbelieving.

“God help Chris Argent,” Melissa says, laughing, “I’m sure she has him wrapped around her finger by now.”

And that’s the end of that.

.

They exchange gifts after dessert, splayed around the spacious livingroom, digesting. Derek gets his three betas matching leather jackets, more for the sentimentality than the actual expected use. He even produces a tiny leather jacket for Hannah, which Erica immediately puts on over her little red Christmas dress. Boyd and Isaac put theirs on, too, laughing and making exaggerated tough-guy faces. Derek has also given them each a few hundred dollars in cards, but the jackets are a better show.

Stiles and Derek had gone in on a mini-vacation package for the Sheriff and Melissa at a resort spa, which they both sorely deserve. The rest of the gifts are a mix of fun and practical, from Stiles getting everyone a fun pair of socks and sticking his tongue out at his father when he starts laughing, to Allison and Scott giving Hannah a teddy bear that is easily twice her size.

Scott gives Stiles a gift card to his favorite geek merchandise site, along with a rectangle wrapped package. Stiles grins at the card before tearing into the wrapping paper, cocking his head when his nails hit glass.

Derek turns in concern when he hears Stiles sharp gasp, but settles when he realizes what the gift is.

“My mom found it in an old roll of film,” Scott explains. “I had to go like three towns over to find someone who still developed actual film.”

“It’s…” Stiles tries, before coughing away the lump in his throat.

Derek peeks over, quirking a smile at the phone. It’s obviously Scott and Stiles, around five or six years old, little arms thrown around each other, posing with a woman who has her arms around the both of them.

“Claudia always loved those play-dates,” Melissa says, softly.

And  _oh_. Derek isn’t sure how he didn’t realize immediately what he was looking at. Now that he knows, the woman’s resemblance to Stiles is obvious. She has the same startling honey eyes and the same beauty-marked complexion set across a wide-grinned face.

Stiles is crying when he tackles Scott into a hug, making an impressive leap from the floor to the couch. Scott just laughs and hugs him back. Derek risks a glance to the Sheriff, unsurprised to find his eyes watery, too.

.

They settle into movies after that, napping on and off, before everyone who doesn’t live with Derek heads to their own home. Stiles tells his dad he’ll be over in the morning and hugs him tightly before waving everyone off and settling back down onto the couch next to Derek.

Finally, it’s just them left, the betas and baby gone to bed, and the house peacefully quiet.

.

“You’re really hard to shop for!” Stiles blurts out, looking at Derek with a mix of amusement and frustration.

“You’re one to talk,” Derek replies, poking Stiles hard in the side.

“Pshaw, I’m delightful,” Stiles says. “What’d you get me?”

Derek rolls his eyes, but hands Stiles a silver wrapped package, anyway. It’s a shirt box, and Stiles grins, expecting a new graphic tee or something similar. Instead, he finds a neatly stapled stack of papers.

“Huh?” he asks, eloquently.

Derek flushes red, but points out the words Rental Agreement.

“I’m renting an apartment up in Portland until you graduate. If you want me there, of course.”

“You’re insane!” Stiles says, laughing as he uses the papers to smack Derek in the chest. “Of course I want you there.”

Derek smiles, soft and private. It’s Stiles’ very favorite smile.

“You don’t have to move in with me,” Derek says, “if you don’t want. I mean, if you want to stay at the dorm. But I’m just tired of not seeing you for months on end. Your scent fades, and your pillows plump back up, and there’s no terrible tshirts all over my floor, and I just really fucking miss you.”

Stiles laughs. “That was way more words than usual. I’m honored.”

“You’re an ass,” Derek says, flicking him on the nose.

Stiles just grins.

“What’d you get me?” Derek says, settling back against the couch cushions.

“Well,” Stiles says, heartbeat spiking in a way that has Derek’s interest more than piqued.

“I asked every single one of our friends for help,” he continues, “and they were all useless. So I had to think, all on my own.”

Derek wisely chooses not to make a snarky remark.

“And I decided,” Stiles drags out, “that there was literally nothing I could think of that would even come close to what you deserve, or to how I feel about you.”

“And you call me a sap,” Derek says, smirking slightly.

“Funny you say that,” Stiles says, lowering himself to the floor to put the box with the lease back under the tree for now and grab Derek’s gift, which had been hidden under the tree shirt at the last moment.

Derek watches him expectantly, but Stiles doesn’t move back to the couch. Instead, he walks over on his knees and leans across Derek’s lap, looking up at him with more than a little mischief in his eyes.

“I realized there was something after all,” he says, “just one thing, really. The only appropriate gift.”

“Stiles…” Derek says, his own heart spiking up as he begins to realize what’s happening.

“I had a whole speech,” Stiles continues, ignoring Derek’s growing shock. “I did research! There were drafts and everything. I had analogies and metaphors and charts. Charts, babe, charts!”

“You do like charts,” Derek says, “get to the point, please.”

“Ass,” Stiles says, scoffing, but he finally pulls the box up from where he’s been holding it out of eyesight and presses it into Derek’s stomach.

“The point is,” he says, “I love you, even if you’re an asshole. And I want to love you for the rest of my life. So, if you want that, open the damn box and wear my cheap ring, and kiss me already!”

And so Derek does.

.

They get married a month after Stiles graduates college. They rent out the town square park and have a small but beautiful ceremony. Scott cries. Cora and Kira make out in the gazebo. Lydia shows up right on time, a wary but happy looking Chris Argent in tow.  

They have their first dance to Hungry Like the Wolf, because Stiles is an asshole. Derek doesn’t mind.

The sun sets, the stars come out, and the moon hangs high in the sky. They’ve never been happier.


End file.
